Friday, July 18, 2008

Soy Mocha Frapp Management

As I hit the garage door opener this morning I said to myself: Today is the day I get into a car accident.

It's weird, but sometimes I just get a feeling about things.

Lo and behold, I was getting on the freeway and some stupid woman in a black Mercedes SUV clipped me. She was to my left. The two lanes we were in are suppose to head straight to the on-ramp. But no, stupid woman in a black Mercedes SUV decided she didn't want to get on the freeway at the last minute. Stupid woman in a black Mercedes SUV wanted to cross over to my lane and then over to the next lane, without regard to anyone else.

She got my driver side bumper.

The horn was honked.

Stupid Bitch! and some other words were yelled.

Brakes were slammed.

I was already on the on-ramp. I looked over my right shoulder. Stupid woman in a black Mercedes SUV was driving away.

Surprisingly, I was not as angry as I thought I would be. If you know me, you know I woulda backed up from the on-ramp and chased down that stupid woman in a black Mercedes SUV, all the while calling her all sorts of degrading names.

Maybe because I didn't hear the loud sound of metal crunching.

Maybe because I was forewarned as I stood in the garage this morning.

Maybe because I'm not on the no carb diet & I was looking forward to a soy mocha frapp at the coffee bar at work. That soy mocha frapp really is some yummy goodness. It's much like the Mocha Blast at Baskin Robbins. It soothes my soul.

After I parked at work, I surveyed the damage. It was actually slight. One scratch & the rest is paint that can be rubbed off. So I settled for cursing the stupid woman in a black Mercedes SUV with a slow and painful death & let it go cuz I was about to go have me some yummy soy mocha frapp.

Maybe I don't need to go to anger management classes after all...

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Bobby Q

No, Bobby Q is not my cousin. Bobby Q is how Mama Piggy and millions of other Chinese pronouces bar b cue. Come on, you know I'm right. heehee

Never have I BBQed on my own, but since I inherited a propane grill, I figured I should take advantage of it. So Road Scholar and I made plans for a BBQ dinner. She was suppose to come over on a Friday but plans changed & we re-scheduled for the next day. It was a good thing.

After Road Scholar called to re-schedule I thought I could grill some salmon myself that night. To my dismay, after an hour of cleaning and fiddling around, I realize that there's no propane left in the tank. Sarah Michelle Gellar! What does this piggy have to do to get some grilled salmon??

It was pan fried salmon that night. sigh

First thing in the morning I go to Home Cheapo to swap out my propane tank. I rush home, hook up the tank & am ready to grill drumsticks for lunch. After five fildding around minutes, I realize the ignition button is broken. No problem. Just throw a match in. Of course it didn't dawn on me that the gas had been building up inside the grill.

Woosh! I turned my head to the left, as if that alone would save me from the flame. Luckily, my hair was in a ponytail, but still...there was the unmistakable smell of singed hair. I had to cut off a big section of crispy hair on the right side. My hair dresser is not going to be happy about this. Guess I could tell her I got Bobby Q-ed...

Like I said, it was a good thing Road Scholar re-scheduled. I learned valuable lessons about the propane grill in time to prevent our dinner of rib eye, sausage & veggie skewers and salad from going up in flames.